


I've picked up the speed (to jump your palaces)

by janebirkin (orphan_account)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Young Sansa, young jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 05:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/janebirkin
Summary: Jon takes Sansa to the Godswood. She does a bit of thinking.





	

* * *

She was obliged to take him. Well, in theory, he was obliged to take her. Her father (and surprisingly, mother) had insisted Jon accompanied her to the Godswood after she had turned down every other suggestion. Lord Stark had to attend 'important matters' as well as his wife and elder son. Theon wasn't even an option and she'd rather take Jon instead of Maester Luwin or one of her father's bannermen. They were old and boring. Nothing near to those blonde-haired Knights from the songs and poems. Those only lived in the South, according to her daydreams.

Arya was nowhere to be found and Bran and Rickon were too little —so it was settled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Half an hour later, it was just the Beauty of the North and the Bastard of Winterfell through the watery snow a summer storm had left behind. Oh, she was already starting to regret it. If only Jeyne weren't sick and all the other girls weren't so awfully boring. She sighed loudly.

 

"Do you ever talk half-brother?" Sansa inquired raising an eyebrow.

 

The boy immediately blushed and anyone would have been able to notice he wished to be anywhere else. He cleared his throat and tried not to stammer, "What would you wish I talked about, my Lady?"

 

She sighed even louder than before. ''If I were to want to discuss a topic of my own I am sure you wouldn't know the first thing about it."

 

She didn't intend to sound so mean but knew she had failed when Jon lowered his eyes to the ground. She was about to apologize when the memory of her mother's words, in a slightly louder tone than originally, hit her like a fist. 'That bastard shouldn't be here, little one. He has no honor. He is not one of us. He is not your brother. He is born of sin. Did you know that?'

 

Nevertheless, she felt bad about it and she knew she had been rude. A proper Lady should always be polite and courteous.

 

"Are you looking forward to the Wall?" she tried, a little more eager than necessary. It was the only thing that came to mind that she was sort of interested in.

 

"I am, my Lady", he answered with a frown.

 

She tried not to sound like before, but could not help in rolling her eyes. "I'm trying to be nice, Jon."

 

His eyes widened at the use of his name. She never acknowledged him, and if she did, she didn't call him anything besides half-brother, as if there was something missing from him. As if he wasn't whole and he needed reminding.

 

"Tell me about it. Do you think Nan's stories are true?"

 

Snowflakes were covering Jon's curls and eyelids and Sansa thought he looked pretty like Robb and strong like Father.

 

"I hope not my Lady", he laughed slightly and looked carefully at her, "I hope I get to be a ranger, like Uncle Benjen."

 

She thought it sounded like a secret being confessed. She remembered Uncle Benjen's last visit to Winterfell, how he spent hours narrating horrible situations about the Wall — death, coldness and wildlings. It had sounded terribly awful and dangerous.

 

Sansa shivered. For some reason, thinking of the bastard there stirred an odd feeling in her stomach. Why would he want to live in such a place? He was perfectly happy there, for sure. He had Father and Robb and Arya. She supposed he had other friends as well and he was a good fighter. He could become a Knight if he wanted, Sansa was sure of it. And everyone liked — ... oh, no. But... no, it couldn't be. It surely wasn't because of her Mother and... her.

 

She felt her chest heavy like it did after she occasionally lied to Septa Mordane to sneak out with Jeyne and do something they weren't supposed to, like read one of those forbidden books. Guilt.

 

He was good, Jon was good. He was always kind, even when she was mean. And he used to play with her when they were little. He never teased her, even when Robb, Theon, and Arya did and he was in the same room. He had a nice face and a sweet smile. And he liked lemon cakes.

 

"But... isn't it too cold there? And lonely? she asked in a low voice, " Aren't you happy here?"

 

“I am, my Lady. I am happy. But it's all I've been dreaming of since I was a child. I'll wear thick clothes and be surrounded by new brothers."

 

She sat by the hot springs instead of the Weirwood and took off her boots. She didn't feel like praying and perhaps the warm water would make the uncomfortable feeling increasing its weight go away. Jon stood behind her, strong-looking and hands clasped behind his back. She turned around.

 

"But if you didn't like it, after all, you couldn't leave because of your vow. You could stay here instead. ", she smiled, "You could stay here and have a new dream."

 

He smiled back and she decided she cared about him. He wasn't bad like her mother had said. She would like him if he knew him. It wasn't his fault he had been born that way.

 

"I'll think about it, my Lady."

 

"Please, do call me Sansa, Jon. Do you promise?"

 

"I promise."

 

"Come sit with me. The water is quite nice."

 

She could be friends with him. Her mother didn't need to know just yet. She would tell her some night while she combed her hair, only if it had been a nice day and she had seen Lady Stark smile at least couple of times. She would try not to get into fights with Arya and be even better at her embroidery and sums. And perhaps her mother wouldn't get as mad as she did that morning when Robb invited Jon to break his fast with them.

 

The boy hesitated and looked back to where they had come from, just to make sure. No one would hurt them, not at Winterfell. He finally took off his boots and sat next to her.

 

Sansa looked at him as if it was the first time she did so. He could easily find a nice wife and live in Wintertown or even at her family's castle. She promised herself she was going to tell her idea to Lord Stark as soon as she saw him.

 

But she never did. When Jon took her back, her mother was waiting for her in the courtyard. She spent the next hour and a half saying how stupid she was for letting her eldest daughter alone with that bastard. She told her how her father had dishonored her by sharing a bed with another woman. How Jon was the eternal reminder of it. The proper Lady she was wasn't supposed to be friends with him. She couldn't do that to her mother. He didn't deserve her pity. He didn't deserve to even be looked at.

 

So she didn't. She did as expected; she ignored his existence and went on with her life.

 

But since that day in the Godswood, it became terribly difficult not to glance in his direction longer than necessary, or thank him when he curtsied, or smile at him when she saw him practicing with his sword.

 

Years later, after Joffrey and Ramsay and Petyr and death had happened and the Stark name was on the verge of extinction and Sansa was brought back to him, her mother's words lost all meaning and importance on the subject.

 

Jon was family, Jon was a Stark and Jon was there, after everything she had ever cared for had died and disappeared forever.

**Author's Note:**

> A very, very short one-shot to try to make up for the fact that I'm so inactive in this fandom!!! So many amazing writers have posted since I last checked and I feel so guilty I haven't been reading anything or even reblogging on tumblr so I'm making a little addition to the tag since there aren't many pre-canon Jonsa fics and this has been in my drafts forever. Thank you for reading and I only proof-read this once so try to ignore any mistakes!


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